Francofonia

"Francofonia" is terribly over-directed and seems strange just for the sake of being strange.

This is disjointed and dreary, its power diluted by Sokurov's constant, self-important narration.

Francofonia is a brilliant meditation on art, on war - and what happens to art when nations go to war.

As Sokurov examines a pivotal point in the Louvre's history and gives us a virtual tour of the magnificent museum, he makes larger points about the vital importance of art throughout human history. This is one of the most beautiful films of the year.

Near the one-hour mark, the filmmaker asks, "You aren't tired of listening to me yet?" If you aren't, you will be soon.

"Francofonia," a powerful cinematic essay on how art and war are irrevocably intertwined, has an ideal canvas and time peg for its philosophical musings: the Louvre Museum during the Nazi occupation of France.

Highly recommended for people close to art cinema, avid consumers of World War II stories and above all, for those who enjoy art in general. [Full review in Spanish]

Using documentary footage and bits and pieces of semi-realist dramatics, [Sokurov] tells of the strange friendship between the Louvre director Jacques Jaujard and the Nazi officer sent to oversee the treasures and possibly relieve France of them.

An exhilarating intellectual exercise that packs a ludicrous amount of philosophy into 88 dense minutes.

There's an unlovely self-importance to Sokurov's droning diatribe that rather distracts from the cultural significance of the subject.

The Russian director Alexander Sokurov has never been afraid of tackling weighty, often philosophical issues head on, and his latest film Francofonia is as pioneering - and, some might say, unnecessarily uncompromising - as ever.

In praise of art, but also a reminder that we need to treasure what we have.